


Bibliography

by zakhad



Series: Dignity and Hope [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29961591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zakhad/pseuds/zakhad
Summary: Post S4E9, Final Mission (the one where Wesley and Picard are stranded on a planet before Wes leaves the Enterprise for the Academy)The captain is still negotiating with himself, after backtracking into duty for a while.
Series: Dignity and Hope [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203644
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Bibliography

_The only way to test a hypothesis is to look for all the information that disagrees with it._

Karl Popper

The counselor looked up from a PADD she held as he entered her office. Jean-Luc went to the same spot on her sofa as usual, the end nearest the door, and gave his uniform a yank as he sat down. Deanna spent a few seconds watching him settle with crossed legs before speaking.

“Good morning, Captain.”

“Good morning,” he replied automatically. After a tense pause, he went on. “I almost cancelled today. But I know that feeling that way means I need to be here.”

“You were injured. Dr. Crusher said you were quite dehydrated, as well. How are you feeling?”

His lips thinned, and his hunched posture showed the tension she no doubt sensed radiating from him; he forced his shoulders straighter, shifting again as he sat on the cushion. “I’m still a little tired, but otherwise fine. I don’t remember much of what happened. But I do remember enough, to know that I felt despairing. I told Wesley to go on without me, to leave me and save himself.”

She cocked her head as if hearing something odd. “I’m sensing more anguish than that would suggest. You wanted to increase his odds of survival, because you knew your injuries were severe? But you feel regret and pain.”

“I had a head injury. I know that sometimes comes with unexpected emotions, strange dreams or other symptoms -- but some of the dreams were quite disturbing.” He couldn’t go on with specifics. The memories were already crowding in, just hinting at them.

“Captain,” she said firmly. 

It was enough to refocus his attention and banish the fear. “Thank you.”

“You’re having flashbacks,” she said, back to her usual gentle manner. 

“About assimilation. Yes. It felt very real, when I was laying on the cold rock in that cave. It felt like I was back in the cube. I’ve never felt so cold before….”

“Captain,” she said with a little urgency, again calling him back from it. She’d explained before that the call to duty seemed more effective than some of the other grounding tools they’d tried, to keep him from falling into the past. “You know that working through trauma is cyclical.”

He nodded, chagrined, wishing he had been right two weeks before when he felt he’d gotten past the aftereffects of assimilation. “And similar sensations were an intense reminder of the last time I felt them, when I believed all was lost, and I would not only lose myself I would be used against the people I cared most about.”

“I’m concerned about the despair. Were you suicidal? Was that why you wanted Wes to leave you?”

“I think that was part of the flashback. Feeling like there was no escape and no rescue.” That incredible pessimism had been overwhelming, and out of character. “When they happen, these flashbacks seem to take over reality. I’m concerned -- I want to avoid it, especially on duty.”

She didn’t respond immediately. Her solemn dark eyes seemed to hold concern and surprise. Perhaps his admitting that he cared about his crew was surprising. “I think you’re managing it well, though,” she said. “You’re able to recover quickly.”

“True enough. Do you think that I will ever be entirely free of it?” He sounded almost wistful, which made him flinch. But this was Deanna. She’d been with him through the worst moments of his life, when he’d floundered miserably in despair. Her definition of weakness differed from the norm. 

“Doesn’t your progress so far imply that you can?”

He smiled at her, appreciating her reminder as he always did. Therapy was more complicated than he’d ever thought it could be -- a lot of what she did seemed to be reminders, when the trauma took his brain chemistry into the weeds and he couldn’t think rationally himself. He’d wondered at times why Starfleet had assigned psychologists to ships. After all that she’d helped him through, he no longer questioned that.

“How are you feeling about Wesley’s departure?”

That was an unanticipated tangent -- he’d expected more discussion of the flashbacks. “I’ll miss him. But he needs to move on, to further his career. He needs to take full advantage of all opportunities he has.”

“Did you spend much time with him?”

“Not as much as I could have,” he confessed, thinking about Jack. His friend had known he was uncomfortable with children. Jack hadn’t really asked him if he wanted to meet or spend time with Wesley, when the boy was small. 

“You feel guilty,” Deanna commented sadly.

“I should have tried,” he replied. “One of my regrets. I should have done better by him, because Jack….”

Deanna nodded slowly, not needing to say a word. Regrets associated with Jack had been a topic of several sessions. 

“It’s embarrassing,” he said at last. “To be so out of step. I look at my decision to make Wesley an acting ensign, and wonder -- why would I do such a thing? Who makes that kind of decision about a child? Except someone like me, who can’t understand how to relate to the son of a friend. I give him a rank, to give me common ground. I can control the situation, feel less anxious about it. So I have some way of approaching him.” He stopped, noticing her expression as he finally looked at her.

She smiled, wiping away the shocked expression. “But he’s proven himself just the same, hasn’t he? Perhaps you had several reasons for the promotion. I’ve noticed that when you feel someone has potential, you go out of your way to give them a chance.”

“How can I even think it’s possible to have a family if I can’t be comfortable in a personal relationship with my best friend’s son?”

A pause, as she considered that. “So you are still thinking about having a family? You haven’t mentioned it since Corsica.”

That experience, of walking and talking on Corsica with her, felt so far away. He’d immersed himself in duty once more upon returning to the _Enterprise_ , embarrassed a little with the way he’d allowed himself to be so… loose. She was a subordinate. That time, he reflected, had educated him in how little thought he’d put into his relationship with the counselor. She’d been very firm about boundaries and he thought, now, that it demonstrated just how out of his mind he’d been, that she was so concerned about him. She’d abandoned her own leave. That in itself should have made his mental health issue obvious.

Jean-Luc sighed heavily and gazed at the floor. “I hadn’t been thinking about it. But then we encountered the Talarian vessel.” 

“You were fond of Jono.”

Jean-Luc caught himself before he could express the defensive response to her comment. “I could have been. I started to be. I even -- “ 

The boy who’d been raised by the Talarians had stabbed him out of desperation, rather than let himself be returned to Earth to the Rosso family. He’d actually gone out of his way to befriend Jono, at the counselor’s urging. Jono had only responded to him. And something about Jono’s stubbornness had resonated with him deeply. The young Jean-Luc Picard had been strong-willed and stubborn, and became more so when anyone dared suggest that he might want to rethink something. And he was to this day still stubborn enough to plant his flag and defend his position, once he reached a decision.

Deanna waited quite patiently, as usual. The long pause was typical, when he confronted something in himself that he didn’t like to acknowledge to himself, let alone anyone else. He closed his mouth, inclining his head to the right as he tried to put it into words.

“It occurred to me that if going back to his family on Earth were not possible, that I….”

This time, she didn’t wait it out until he continued. “You were willing to give him a home here?”

She had a way of putting things so gently that he didn’t feel attacked. “If he needed a home. But then I realized he already had one, and we weren’t listening when he told us so. He had to attempt to kill me to get the point across.”

That amused her, as he intended. “I don’t often hear you resort to puns.”

They smiled at it, and he shrugged a little. “In any case, it restarted my thought of family, and of other possibilities. But old habits keep reasserting themselves.”

“It’s easier to go to your quarters and read a book? Listen to music? Go riding on the holodeck?”

“Perhaps even comforting. And that would be the puzzling thing. If I truly want to find a partner, why do I keep defaulting to the usual?”

Deanna’s knowing look didn’t surprise him. “You know the answer.”

“Because humans seek the familiar to comfort themselves under stress,” he parroted. It was a conversation they’d had before. “But if I intend to find someone, I can’t sit in my quarters forever.”

“Yes, change does involve some risk. And it’s not the kind of risk you’re used to taking, is it?”

Jean-Luc shook his head. “I’m not sure I want to take it, sometimes.”

“Certainly you don’t have to be in a hurry to change. And I doubt you’ll find a partner aboard the _Enterprise_ which is full of subordinates. You’ve made it clear you don’t feel that’s an option.”

“But… you think it is?” 

“Regulations have very little to say on the matter, other than to dictate what’s to be done in the event a personal relationship interferes in an officer’s behavior on duty. But I would anticipate, given your anxiety about relationships and the general train of thought on the ethics of command, that you would find that less of a possibility. And I would certainly suppose that anyone you work with directly might be difficult -- you would find it tough to manage that boundary.”

“Would I?”

She gave him a bemused look. “You wouldn’t?”

“I do feel more at ease with people I know well from working with them. But, of course, the options are limited here.”

“But if you promote and go to Starfleet Headquarters….”

He laughed -- one of the few times he’d done so in session. “Oh, the possibilities I wouldn’t have there…. Certainly you know better. I don’t want to become a politician. I prefer active duty. I think if there are opportunities it will be here.”

“I didn’t realize you felt that way about Will.” She was joking, clearly, she’d started to laugh with him. 

“Seriously, though. I think my best option is to go on as normal and be less… stiff. And I hope you can help me work through my discomforts?”

“Of course, Captain.” She seemed about to go on, so he waited a moment. She would do this -- pause, thinking with lidded eyes for a moment, and often it preceded a gently-worded confrontation. So he was prepared when she did exactly that. “Have you considered the possibility that you may be approaching this idea of having an intimate relationship as you do any mission? Trying to build a strategy, a plan of action?”

“Am I not supposed to do that?” he replied, in a tone that said he knew better.

Another smile from her. “Who knows, it might work better that way.”

“I have the feeling I may require a lot of remedial work.”

“Since it’s not such an unusual problem, I can refer you to books.”

“You mean there are other people who lose the ability to be normal?”

Deanna smirked at that. “I have to wonder how humans communicate at all. You all seem to have the unique ability to use the same word yet mean different things. What do you mean by normal?”

“Indeed. Which books?”

“I’ll send a list to you. Do you want to talk about your experience on the Pentarus moon?”

He sighed, nodding as he bowed to the necessity of digging through emotions he disliked remembering. “If I must….”

Later, alone in his quarters, he sat reading one of the recommended books, having replicated it in paper form as usual. It wasn’t what he expected from her. Thomas Moore, Alain Badiou, Erich Fromm, and several other philosophers of centuries past. Poets. Nothing didactic about social skills or anything clinical. He supposed she knew her intended audience well enough.

“At least it’s not onerous reading,” he said with a sigh. The computer, as if reacting to him, signaled a visitor. Clapping the book shut, he set it aside and composed himself. “Come!”

The door opened, and the first officer entered -- Will Riker holding a PADD in the middle of the afternoon could be anything, but there was nothing in his body language that suggested a crisis was afoot. He strolled over and came to attention for the few seconds it took for Jean-Luc to point at the chair, which he sidled around to sit in. 

“A little light reading?” Will asked, gesturing with the PADD in the direction of the tome on the couch cushion. 

“Quite. Something to report, Number One?”

“Advance notice -- Chief O’Brien is engaged to be married, and requesting to be added to your schedule.”

Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow. “A wedding.”

Will grinned. “We knew it would happen eventually. I’m surprised it took this long to have our first wedding.”

“Some people want to take their time, to know the other person,” Jean-Luc commented, intending to fend off the topic entirely. It surprised him that Will’s expression flickered to what he thought might be dismay? Then he remembered -- fairly early on, in some conversation he’d had with Will, he’d found out his first officer and counselor had been engaged in the remote past. It hadn’t culminated in marriage, clearly. “To whom is he engaged?”

Another flicker of emotion -- surprise widened Will’s blue eyes. “Keiko Ishikawa. She’s a botanist. There’s no conflict of interest, they’re in two different departments entirely.”

“I see.” Jean-Luc didn’t remember her, though he was positive he’d met her briefly, as he had all of the crew. He’d taken pains to spend the time in each department doing so, after the counselor had encouraged him to meet his people in person. “I’ll talk to the chief and put it on my schedule. Assuming of course that he’s not intending to bring aboard someone to perform the ceremony.”

“Oh, no. He asked me to see if you’d be willing to perform the ceremony. Have you performed weddings before, sir?”

“A few times.” Jean-Luc glanced at the nondescript black cover of the book he’d been reading. 

Will was now smirking in that way he had when he wanted to tease. “I almost got married. Have you ever thought about it?”

“It’s never been an aspiration of mine,” Jean-Luc said offhandedly. “Anything else?”

“Nothing new, sir. We’re continuing on course to explore the next sector.”

“Good. Thank you, Commander.”

Will stood up, but seemed hesitant. He started to turn, but glanced back at him. He seemed about to say something, but once again turned to leave.

“Will?”

“How do you feel about officers getting married?”

“I’m not sure how my feelings are relevant.”

“I didn’t -- “ Will seemed a little flustered. “I was only wondering.”

Was he looking for approval of something he wanted to do? Jean-Luc tried not to scowl too much at him. “I feel that it isn’t my place to judge anyone else’s behavior, outside the auspices of Starfleet.”

“Okay,” Will said, backing a step. 

“Marriage is something no one should take lightly, as is Starfleet,” Jean-Luc went on, having mercy on his uncomfortable first officer. “A commitment -- I realize that many take it less seriously. My family does not see it as a frivolous undertaking, a temporary thing. Nor do I. Traditionally marriages forged contracts between families, or even countries.”

“Or planets? That’s serious,” Will exclaimed, back to his usual smiling self. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for it.”

“If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s a bad idea to say ‘never.’ So I will set aside my own predictions for now.” Jean-Luc picked up his book. 

That was enough to signal the end of the conversation. Will gave an officious nod and exited, leaving him to the contemplation of the care and feeding of the soul. He opened the book and continued to read the brief autobiography at the front, about Thomas Moore - philosopher and therapist. 

But he closed the book again, after reaching the first pages of the first chapter.

It took a little time to sort out what was off, as he started to read about love and relationship. Then he reached for the PADD, and brought up Starfleet regulations. He knew them well, however, he’d never read through with this issue in mind. Best not to get too ahead of himself. 


End file.
